


Nothing Equals

by Para



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-27
Updated: 2010-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Para/pseuds/Para
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Near, and what Mello is or might have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Equals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jinkandtherebels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkandtherebels/gifts).



> To jinkandtherebels: I swear I'm not a stalker; I'm Moonbeam's Spirit from ff.net. Transferring stories over, and figured I'd transfer dedications as well, and since I didn't see a way to PM you to warn you (and was kind of lazy about looking for long)... hi?

There was, always, something unique between Near and Mello.

What it was, Near wasn't sure. He didn't think Mello knew, either, really. He didn't think it mattered; they knew what it meant, even if they didn't know what it was called.

Near wasn't the best. Neither was Mello. The best of the world, of course, was L; perhaps, after him, Kira. But the best of Wammys, the best of the next generation; Near and Mello were tied, there. Near was the best on paper; the best at logic and tests and knowing what answer the teachers wanted to hear. But Mello was the best with instinct and people; people would listen to Near, but they would follow Mello, even when they hated him. Near was the teachers' favorite, Roger's favorite, Wammy's favorite. But he had to wonder, sometimes, if Mello wasn't L's favorite.

There had always been a kind of unspoken agreement that they would always be like that; equivalent equals. Neither would take the title of L, because while each would try to get ahead, they would never let the other fall behind. They may express it by insults and condescension and fights, but that was only a way to push each other, something that no one else in the world could do. They could not have been friends; they would have been lethal as enemies. But, by always fighting, always pushing so they were just one tiny fraction of a millimeter short of breaking the other, short of winning—that way they could be connected, equal; together. It was, Near thought, better than friendship.

So he knew. Why Mello did it, Near could not understand. But when Mello, for whatever reasons were going through that incomprehensible mind of his, made Near L—it was not respect, not an insult, not even a surrender. It was, really, much more like a goodbye. Perhaps Mello had decided it was inevitable, and decided to get it over with, but their connection had depended on equality. The instant Mello made Near L, they were no longer equal, and that connection was gone.

And Near had to wonder, if he hadn't fallen for Mello's charisma just as much as everyone else who met the boy. He had to wonder if perhaps that connection hadn't meant anything to Mello but another game to play, another test, another methodical process to improve. And, really, there was nothing he could do but watch Mello yell at Roger and walk away, and when he saw Matt hovering in the hallway by a door, he couldn't do anything but go to a window above the door and watch Mello walk away.

There was, always, something special between Near and Mello, even if it was just an illusion.

Near walked away too, soon enough. If Mello was determined to make them unequal—then Near would make them equal, and perhaps this could be just another challenge, another competition to make both of them stronger.

But the real world wasn't like Wammy's. Near found himself working, at minimum wage jobs at first, just to live. He didn't stay there long, of course; he turned that job into a better one, and that into an even better one, until he had enough money to contact a few different governments and see which one would work best for his purposes.

It was halfway through an interview with a Chinese government official that Near realized he hadn't thought of Mello in months.

It didn't last long. He finished his answer automatically, the official asked another question, and he refocused on the interview. He had no idea what Mello was doing—but he was out in the world now, out where Mello had the advantage. He'd better be doing something that could compete with whatever Mello was doing.

Eventually Near picked the United States government, and settled into his new routine. He solved cases and studied, comparing what he experienced to what he learned. He improved quickly; that was to be expected. And, only a few years later, he was established enough to mention Kira.

Everyone was against it, of course. He was, technically, still a child, and they were all disinclined to lose their new star. He waited, bringing the topic up periodically, until, eventually, they agreed.

It took a few more weeks to pick out and assemble his team. He'd had most of them picked out already, really, but only those he worked with closely were used to him enough to assume he had reasons unless he took some time about it. But then, the real challenge could start.

It took years, but Near was pleased when he met Kira. He was feeling an adrenaline rush that he hadn't in years. He had, of course, won their first encounter, but that meant nothing. He knew all about Kira, while Kira had had no idea he existed. What happened in their next encounters; those would tell whether Kira would be any kind of challenge.

Near was disappointed. Kira failed to prove himself; he would be a challenge, but a minor one.

And then the police chief disappeared.

Near wasn't sure why he thought of Mello then, of all times. But he did, and when it came to Mello, instincts were much more relevant than logic. So he asked, about the only trademark Mello would have used, candy wrappers, expecting a very confused and very definite no.

Near had no idea what to think when it turned out that it _was_ Mello.

The connection was back in his memory, instantly, but so was the memory of its loss. And, too, there was the more recent memory, of all the years since Mello left, where he'd lived quite well. He'd learned well enough on his own; he'd done well enough getting himself where he wanted to be.

Not that Mello ever had anything to do with 'well enough.'

But it was a case. Near set everything about the old connection aside, and worked with Kira—of all things—to solve it.

The more Near learned, the more he thought. Mello was a Mafia boss; the exact opposite of what Near had become. Mello was more reckless, more outgoing, more compelling than he had been. Near was more logical, and even worse at interacting with people than he had been.

It was, he decided, exactly what the connection called for. He'd been so focused on equals, that he'd forgotten they were equivalent. Mello left, so Near left—he should have stayed. They were meant to be opposites; equal, but opposites.

Perhaps that had been Mello's point when he left. Making Near L didn't break their connection at all, it only meant that Mello was making himself an equivalent to L. The connection hadn't ever been broken at all.

Near could barely believe it when the base blew up. It was so stupid, so reckless—and so entirely, entirely Mello, he couldn't believe he hadn't known Mello would do it. His team got to see the rare event of Near laughing that day.

When he learned Mello had survived, he wasn't surprised in the least.

Mello disappeared after that, and all of Near's resources couldn't find a hint about where he was, except that Matt had finally gotten around to joining him some weeks before the base exploded. Matt would have survived too; Mello wouldn't have let him die.

Near didn't worry about Mello that time; he would be back. He focused on the Kira case, pushing himself more, even though he'd thought he was pushing himself as much as he could. He did better than he had, accomplished more, even though before he'd been doing his best and accomplished as much as he could. That was the effect Mello had—Mello was winning now; he'd gotten the Death Note, while Near hadn't. And Near had to catch up.

Mello really had had an advantage. Near wouldn't be surprised if Mello hadn't known Near would fall behind; Near had thought he'd lost his challenger, while Mello knew they were still competing. Ruthless, treacherous, conniving Mello—Near couldn't imagine how he'd thought of it, but it was the best game they'd played yet.

Near really shouldn't have been surprised when Halle led Mello into his base.

It was just another step in the game, really. Mello was winning, easily; he'd succeeeded in getting to Near, even if Near hadn't tried to get to him. So Near pulled out a picture of Mello that he'd hidden years ago, and played that he wasn't losing.

He could barely keep himself from laughing with delight the entire time Mello was there. Letting Mello know how amused he was wouldn't be appropriate, even if Mello probably knew already. That was something that Mello would do, not Near.

Mello stormed out of Near's base with the picture, and Near refused to move. Of course Mello knew where he was now, but he could find it again just as easily through Halle. And Near could make a point too; by ignoring Mello, staying where he was and keeping Halle around, Near could pretend that he didn't care what Mello did, because Mello wasn't able to do anything to him.

It was a lie, of course. But even if Mello could, Mello wouldn't, and the implication that Mello was beneath Near's notice was the best challenge Near could offer at that point. The connection, the challenge, it was getting back to what it had been, and Near couldn't have been more pleased.

When Mello appeared again, he died.

Near didn't think anything of it. There wasn't anything he could think; it just wasn't the way things worked. Mello didn't die, he couldn't, he wouldn't. He wouldn't give up, he wouldn't end their game like that. He wouldn't do something so reckless that he couldn't get out.

But he had. The proof was right there, glaring out of the TV screen at Near, sitting in the charred remains of the church when he went to look. Mello was dead.

It wasn't possible. It happened anyway.

Near felt almost like he had the day Mello made him L, only this time, there was no confusion, and no way to fix it. Everything was perfectly clear, because while Near would never understand why Mello died, why Mello did it didn't matter any more than the name of their connection. He had died, that was the only thing that mattered. The connection was gone. And Near couldn't just make them equal again, couldn't wait for Mello to return. There was nothing he could do. The connection was never going to be there again.

There was, always, something special between Near and Mello, even when that something was a void.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net.


End file.
